Perspectives
by Itsallablur
Summary: The good advice that you just didn't take...


Title: Perspectives   
Author: Invision   
Rating: PG   
Spoilers: "Catevari", "The Other Invisible Man", and "Legends"   
Summary: The good advice that you just didn't take...   
  
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Invisible Man" or any of the characters. I'm not making any money off of this. *pout*   
  
Notes: I tried to give up writing. I was all prepared to just put my pen and paper in the desk drawer, shove my typewriter under the bed, put aside the ol' keyboard...you get the idea. But wouldn't ya know it, it seems that the Evil Angst Bunnies had different plans in store for me. So blame them! *points an accusing finger at the blue and green (my, my, they're getting colorful these days!) bunny staring at her from across the room* Back! Back, I say!   
  
And thank you, as always, to my wonderful beta reader liz_Z! And thanx a bunch for the title suggestions. Believe me, it was hard to choose. :)   
  
Perspectives   
  
Don't take unnecessary risks. I've been told that more times than I can count. It's good advice, too.   
  
Back in my days as a thief, I couldn't afford to take risks because I loved my freedom too much. One slipup and the cops are hauling you off to jail. And if you've ever spent time in jail, like yours truly, you learn to make sure you only do what has to be done.   
  
As a government agent, I can't afford to take unnecessary risks because it could get me or my partner killed. Like I said, it's good advice. So why the hell didn't I listen?   
  
I glance up at him, at my partner. The mix of anger and worry is evident on his face. He looks like he doesn't know whether to help me or kick me for being stupid.   
  
We were chasing some agents that were working for Chrysalis. One of 'em took off running, so I did exactly what Hobbes told me not to, I quicksilvered and started after him on my own. He fired blindly at me a few times, but he didn't hit me. Or so I thought. I didn't even notice it after I finally caught up with the SOB and knocked him out with his own gun. I felt some pain in my side, but I thought it was just a cramp from running so fast. Then I look down and see that blood is covering the right side of my shirt. Needless to say, that's quite a shock.   
  
By the time Hobbes finds me, I'm on the ground trying my best not to panic. Trying not to think of bleeding to death before my partner gets to me. He swore as he saw what I'd gotten myself into. Hey, at least he didn't say "I told you so."   
  
He hasn't really let on to how bad it is. I don't have much experience with gunshot wounds, but if it's as bad as it feels, then I think I'm screwed.   
  
And here we are, waiting for Claire to show up.   
  
I try to hold back a small laugh, but I can't help laughing at the irony of the situation. Bobby gets this funny look on his face, no doubt wondering how I can laugh at a time like this.   
  
"Darien, you're laughing at a time like this?" See? I can read his face like a book.   
  
Darien, huh? Must be worse than it feels.   
  
"I just can't help but think that it's a shame if this bullet kills me." How pathetic, my voice is just above a whisper.   
  
"You're not going to die, Fawkes," he says firmly.   
  
"After all th...," I inhale deeply as a wave of pain crashes over my body, "the crap that we've been through, after Bigfoot, Fogerty, and a dead guy's memory RNA, it'd be a shame if something normal killed me."   
  
He smiles. "That's exactly why you're going to be okay. We've been through too much for this to take you down, Fawkes. Just hang on. The Keep is gonna be here soon and she'll do her doctor thing. Everything's going to be okay."   
  
I smile sadly. God, you're such a good friend, Bobby. And I wish I could believe you, but I've just got this bad feeling. I have to fight to stay awake. It's hard to think straight. You know how they say that you can see a light when you're dying? I wonder if that's true.   
  
Bobby suddenly slaps the side of my face. It stings. I can still feel pain, so that must be a good sign, right?   
  
"You stay with me, Fawkes. Keep your eyes open, buddy."   
  
"Tired...can't keep my eyes...open," I mumble. My voice sounds so muffled. Everything does. Except for my heartbeat. I can hear it echoing clearly in my head.   
  
I try to keep my eyes focused on the sky. Maybe if I can focus on something, I can...   
  
_______________   
  
Stay awake. Come on, just stay awake a little longer, man. Where the hell are they? They should've been here by now.   
  
I shake Fawkes, trying to keep him conscious. He's so pale. I'm trying my best to stop the blood flow, but it just won't stop. I'm not a doctor, but after being in the military, you get a basic knowledge of the inside of the human body. I keep thinking about all the veins and arteries that that bullet could've perforated. An involuntary shudder runs through my body.   
  
I wish Claire would get here. I hate feeling so helpless. I feel like I can't do a thing to help him.   
  
"B...Bobby." He sounds so scared, almost like a small child.   
  
"Yeah, I'm right here," I say softly.   
  
"I...I don't want to die." He looks right at me. He's got tears in his eyes. I'm just as scared, if not more, than he is, but I've got to be strong for him. He's got to know that I'm not going to let him go down like this. Bobby Hobbes doesn't let his partner give up this easily. I take one his hands in mine and squeeze hard.   
  
"Fawkes, listen to me. You're going to make it, you hear me?" He squeezes my hand back. He's going to make it.   
  
Relief floods my body as I hear footsteps, Claire's footsteps, heading our way. I don't like the look on her face. She looks worried, and that multiplies my worry by two.   
  
"Bobby, what happened?" she asks, voice full of concern. Two backup agents run up behind her and secure the Chrysalis agent.   
  
"We were chasing the perps when Fawkes decided to run off after one of 'em by himself, after I told him not to." That comment sounds a little more harsh than I had intended it to, but it was stupid of him to run off like that without someone to watch his back. Taking risks like that almost always gets you into situations like these.   
  
"Hey, Keepie," my partner says. His voice is slurred. He waves one of his hands weakly.   
  
"Darien, calm down. Everything's going to be fine." She rubs his arm and then turns to me. "Bobby, get the van and bring it over here. We need to get him back to the lab."   
  
"He's gonna be okay, right? I mean..."   
  
"Bobby, just get the van." I take one last look at Darien and then run. I run as fast as I possibly can. When I reach the van, I see the two backup agents 'cuffing the perp. The guy's lucky I don't have time to go over and strangle him. One of the agents asks if we need help. I tell him to just go back to the Agency and make sure that Chrysalis agent tells us what we need to know. If he doesn't, he's going to have me to deal with, and believe me my friend, he doesn't want that.   
  
When I get back to Claire and Fawkes, he's completely unconscious. The ground around him is a sickening mix of brown and red.   
  
We manage to get him into the van and then we haul butt back to the Agency. I keep glancing in the rearview mirror, trying to watch everything that's going on back there.   
  
When we arrive, we get Fawkes into the lab. Claire calls for two nurses, both of whom I've never seen before. They push me aside, giving me some crap about how I need to let the doctor do her job.   
  
"To hell with that," I say, almost yell. As much as I hate scalpels and needles, I need to be with my partner right now.   
  
"Bobby, I need room to work. Besides, I don't think you can handle being in there." She says that last part real soft. I almost protest. I almost tell her that Bobby Hobbes can take it. But then I'm not so sure I do want to see what's going to happen back there.   
  
I watch as they wheel him into one of the empty lab rooms on a stretcher. I'm worried. Not that I'm doubting Claire's abilities. She's the smartest woman I know. I've never doubted her before, and I'm not about to start now. I just don't like not knowing what's going on, you know? But I know she can...   
  
_____________________   
  
Save him. That was my objective and I failed.   
  
"Good try," I told the two nurses after...after it was over. 'Try', I've never liked that word. In my experience, it's a word that is used only when failure is or is expected to be the outcome. As a scientist and a doctor, I 'try' to prevent failure at all costs, but that statement only makes it more obvious that I'm bound to fail sooner or later.   
  
I'm alone with him now. Alone in this room, the keeper and her kept. I can't imagine how that must have felt. Being forced into a place like this, like the Agency. Having to fear what was inside your own body.   
  
His face, once full of color and life, now pale and void of expression. I take one of his hands into my own. Instead of the warmth of life, all I feel is coldness.   
  
Bobby. How do I tell him? He's waiting out there and he doesn't know. I wipe a stray tear from my cheek, take one last look at my patient's body, and make my way out into the hallway. I can't hear any other sound except for the click of my heels against the floor. It's as if Bobby and I are the only ones in the building.   
  
I turn the corner and spot him in the lab. He's sitting on Darien's chair, head in his hands. He hears me and his head shoots up. He stands up quickly, desperate to know what has happened. "Keep, what's going on back there? I feel like I've been sitting here for hours." His voice is full of anxiety, but he manages a nervous smile. I look right into his eyes. They're full of worry. There is also hope in those brown pools, hope that the news I have is the exact opposite of what it is. I try to think of some way to soften the blow, to lessen the pain.   
  
"Claire?" He already knows. I can see it in his face.   
  
"Bobby, I'm sorry." That's all I can say.   
  
"Oh man." He rubs his face with his hands.   
  
I try to move towards him, but he backs away. "It's my fault."   
  
"Bobby..."   
  
"No, I should've been watching him. I shouldn't have let him run off like that. It's my fault." His voice is a mixture of anger and sorrow.   
  
I know I need to tell him that it wasn't his fault. I hate seeing him in pain like this. I wish there was some way I could take it all away, but I can't, can I? I can't take it away completely. I open my mouth, but I can't verbalize my sympathy and my own sadness. I just bring my hand up and rub his arm gently. This time my attempt at compassion is not rejected. I'm a bit surprised as he leans forward slightly, as if trying to ask for an embrace that he is too embarrassed to ask for with words. I understand. So I wrap my arms around him tenderly, and we draw solace from each other in the silence of this room.   
  
  
~The End~


End file.
